2. Paws and a Bookmark #3
Simeon scratched Vladimir's ruff and felt pressure on his chest from the cat's paws.
Two stops later, they departed the bus and strolled a quarter mile, then turned onto a dirt lane.
He crouched and let the Familiar flow onto the ground.
He unclipped the cat's harness. Eighteen pounds of feline could get heavy, even draped over both shoulders.
Vladimir sniffed and checked out the pee-mail as his mage got the mail and glanced at a new notice on the community board beside the road.
"Irrigation next week," he warned his Familiar.
"Good. Se?ora Dúran said that the state's worried about flooding if they don't release some from the reservoirs." Vladimir shook all over, then scuffed a bit of dirt at the base of one of the board's legs. "Dog," he grumbled.
The road narrowed into a lane, barely a car and a quarter wide between the old adobe walls and rough wooden "coyote" fences.
Simeon trundled his garbage can back from the row and unlocked the blue-painted gate in a pale tan adobe wall.
Before he could open it, Vladimir squeezed himself between the bottom of the gate and reddish-brown flagstone pavers.
His mage opened the gate, pulled in the garbage bin, and parked it in the enclosure for it.
He crouched and removed a bit of sticky creeping weed and tossed it out into the dirt, then closed the gate.
The faint sound of water dancing in a small basin welcomed him into the garden.
Vladimir lapped from the lower basin, then waited as his mage removed the paw covers and harness.
He sniffed a knee-high lump of basalt and rubbed against it before meandering among the plants on his way to the door.
The air in the small garden smelled of desert rose, pine, and rain-washed stones.
A few purple cone flowers nodded in a corner among a spray of gray-purple perovskia.
Desert rose bloomed in a different corner, yellow flowers bright against the dark green foliage and branches.
Simeon unlocked the heavy blue wooden door and let Vladimir in, then found the sack of cheap cat food and added some to the outside dish. Vladimir wouldn't touch that brand, but the ... presence ... in the garden loved it.
Vladimir stared at him, unblinking, until the microwave chimed.
"Yes, today is tuna-chicken blend," he assured his Familiar.
He set the gently curved pottery platter in the Familiar's corner of the dining area.
As the sound of a cat devouring meat filled the air, his mage poured himself a glass of iced tea and added two squirts of agave nectar.
He returned to the garden and sat on the small bench.
Damp summer evenings deserved to be savored.
He sipped, breathed deeply, then lowered his shields as he exhaled.
All remained quiet around him. None of the neighbors had magic, something that further relaxed him.
The pi?on-flower-clean scent washed the last of the nasty customer's prickles out of his mind.
The tea's flavors matched the air. Birds called, and cottonwood leaves clattered from out of sight on the arroyo bank.
He caught a whiff of fresh bread from an oven. His stomach growled. He had more tea.
Crunch, crunch, crunch. He glanced over to the dishes by the door.
A small shape like a European-inspired fantasy dragon helped herself to the cat kibble.
Her desert colors matched the land, tans, cream, a bit of rose shading on her tail.
Simeon saluted the small presence with his tea glass, then returned to contemplating the gentle trickle of water dancing from the two-pot fountain.
Vladimir and the birds drank from it. The earth spirit ignored the water, as best he could tell.
She had never touched it in his presence, at least.
After a few more minutes of watery contemplation, Simeon got up and retreated indoors.
What for supper? Something meaty and hearty would be very good.
He dug around in the freezer until he found one of the stew bowls he'd made and frozen.
"Perfect." It was Hungarian, according to what he'd written on the wrapper.
Goulash sounded delightful. As it heated, he considered the stack of books beside his reading chair.
Vladimir leaned against his leg until he reached down and scratched his back, and behind his ears. "Podcast tonight?"
"Da. Another chapter of Space Cats. Then the American Revolution alphabet book for the second session." That would get him through to the weekend.
"Good." The cat rubbed around him once more, then hopped onto the couch and settled in for another nap.
The microwave chimed. Simeon pulled the goulash out with great care, using tongs to open the wrapper this time.
Getting another steam burn ranked down with charm breaking on his list of pleasant tasks.
Once the dish cooled enough, he set it on the table, logged into the booksellers' news site, and read between bites.
"All of Potoo Brothers' books are going out of print," he told Vladimir.
"The last attempt at finding a buyer for the intellectual properties has failed, and all the creditors agreed to quit trying. "
"Thanks be to the Lord Most High," the cat intoned. "And to someone in the legal department with a clue."
"Agreed." He read a little farther. "Ursula Guess-Who will be releasing a new series, urban fantasy again.
" The hairball sound that greeted the news matched his own feelings precisely.
At least the magic in the books had not worked yet, unlike the woman who had been sued into a new career.
He'd cheered that, albeit privately. It was not censorship to demand that malicious content intentionally designed to bring harm to Sensitive or magic-working readers be removed.
"The big British distributor is raising prices on pocket paperbacks. Again."
"No surprise." Vladimir rolled over, stretched the full length of the couch, then sat, tail curled around his toes. "Paper costs or shipping?"
"Officially the rising cost of materials." He skimmed down to the last paragraph. "Unofficially to protect the value of their brand, so that's the real reason." Too bad price did not guarantee quality in some of their non-fiction imprints.
After supper had settled, Simeon changed into a shirt that didn't blend into the wall so well.
Then he set up the cameras and microphone for the podcasts.
Vladimir settled into his on-camera bed, the one made from an old steel in-box tray.
Simeon got everything else ready, triple-checked that the remote control on the cameras worked, and set the first book on the stand.
"Welcome to Bytes of Books! We are continuing with Space Cat by D.
L. Brock. When last we left Peanut, he stood outside a mysterious, dust-colored Martian door as his humans sought a way into the ancient structure.
All their questions would be answered soon. "
He paused, opened the book, and looked his question at the cameras. "Or would they?" After another pause, he continued, "Chapter Eight - Through the Dusty Door."
"... Return next week for the dramatic conclusion of Space Cat by D.
L. Brock. If you can't wait, this and other exciting books can be found at your local library or bookstore.
Remember, wherever you go, books can take you farther!
Thanks for listening to Bytes of Books, your twice weekly bibliocast." He stopped, then ended the recording.
It was eleven before he finished recording the second book, including some of the illustrations, and editing everything. Thanks be that Pedro would be opening tomorrow. Simeon triple checked everything with the recordings, then went to bed.
"Buenos tardes, Jefe," good afternoon, boss, Pedro said as Simeon finished removing Vladimir's harness and paw covers. "Hi Vladimir."
The cat waved a paw at him, then stalked to the front of the store to start his daily inspection.
"It's not quite afternoon yet. Did you get my message?" Simeon tucked his Familiar's equipment into the usual nook in the shelves in the storage/junk corner of the back room of the shop.
"Yes. I made space for her table and pots, and warned Mr. Devaca next door.
He said fine. The art store down the street from him will be closed both days, so he's going to set up his display on that side of the door.
" Pedro counted off on his fingers as he spoke.
"The delivery arrived on time, the rest of the mail is on the desk, and I sold the last copy of Cactus and Corruption. "
"I've ordered more, and they should arrive on Monday, if anyone asks." He stopped. Vladimir was backing out of the regional fiction area, ears flat. "Excuse me."
Simeon shifted to seeing magic. "Another one?"
"Hurry!"
What—? A stench like brimstone, dead mouse, and worse boiled out of the section.
"Be Thou my battle shield," Simeon whispered, making a ball-shaped shield and wrapping the charm.
He swaddled a tightly-folded sheet of expensive black paper in silk and magic and hustled the curse charm out the back door.
"I'm right behind you," a woman said. "That's nasty! Do you have a— Good! Can you break it?"
"Not easily. I can shield."
"Do that, please. I'll break it."
He set the silk and paper in the green circle behind the shop, then drew more power from Borsht. "Ready?"
"Ready. One, two, three!"